


Supplication, Subjugation, SUFFERING

by hiilikedragons



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 'loving' zarkon, AU, Abuse, Angst, Asphyxiation, Bottom Lotor, Crying, Degradation, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Excessive Fluids, Face-Fucking, Father/Son Incest, Hair-pulling, Incest, M/M, No Aftercare, Non-Consensual, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent/Child Incest, Rape, Victim Lotor, alternative is worse actually, big dick aliens, free use lotor, lotor never gets exiled, lotor's a weak sub bitch, opportunist lotor, pre-exilement lotor, scales - Freeform, scales on dicks, smart cookie lotor, so much crying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 23:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17477126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiilikedragons/pseuds/hiilikedragons
Summary: Pre-exilement AU where Lotor does not get exiled, but instead, suffers.Lotor ruins his latest attempt to impress his father and makes a desperate plea for mercy after Zarkon threatens to deliver yet another cruel punishment vastly ill-befitting the crime.That's perfect because Zarkon thinks he's finally figured out how to bring Lotor to heel. Disappointment and disobedience must not be suffered, but erased.





	Supplication, Subjugation, SUFFERING

 

The throne room was hued in warm browns, soft greens, and gentle yellows, and had served well to calm Lotor in the past. It used to fill him with a sense of warmth and coziness, and it had taken him a long while to realize the feeling was one felt when they were at ‘home.’

Today, however, the natural, earthly beauty of the throne room could do nothing for Lotor as he felt a cold sweat break out over his body. He was both terrified and angered, feeling utterly helpless as the situation rapidly spiraled out of his control.

“No, please do not do this, Father!” he desperately tried a second time. “Do not punish my people like this!” Lotor half-paused at his slip up but continued onwards. “I’ll—Whatever you wish, I will do it to my fullest extent if you spare them!”

Waving his hand behind him, Lotor tried his best to convey to Ven’tar to escape. Why? He didn’t know. It wouldn’t have helped anything. If his father wanted this planet destroyed, there was no escaping it.

Voice cracking, Lotor let out another desperate, if albeit final-sounding, “ _Please_.”

It seemed as if his plea did manage to reach his father as the huge Galra stopped in place, rigid. Zarkon whirled around to glare down at Lotor, enraged by his impudence. His violet eyes glowed ominously. Lowly, as if feeling so much rage that he couldn’t force the words out correctly, the Emperor said, “You would lower yourself to begging and pleading, and sullying yourself—and _me_ by extension—by working alongside these—” Zarkon tossed a hand in Ven’tar’s direction, who looked equally terrified and confused—“these lower beings—and then you would _dare_ to turn around and beg me for mercy?”

Zarkon pulled his teeth back and stomped towards Lotor, who stiffened but didn’t back away. His expression was equally stony as he dared to stare up at his _emperor_ with those cold blue eyes of his. It only served to infuriate Zarkon even further. Once he was close enough, he immediately slapped Lotor hard enough to stagger the boy.

Swallowing hard, Lotor kept himself quiet, doing his best not to provoke his father—and not to give in by showing his pain. There was fear too. Lotor couldn’t tell, couldn’t know if his father still intended to destroy his planet. _His_ planet. The thought brought stinging tears to his eyes, and he felt his face heat up. He didn’t want them to die. Not only would the immense guilt crush him absolutely, but he liked them. He liked Ven’tar. He liked what they all accomplished—together. Mustering up whatever strength he had left, Lotor rose his head and stared into those violent, Quintessence-filled eyes and said, “Father…”

“Enough!” Zarkon’s face contorted as he backhanded Lotor’s face in the opposite direction this time, marring both of his son’s cheeks. There would be bruising soon, as the boy had inherited the regenerative properties of both his parents. “You—” He pointed a clawed finger at the disgusting bug still kneeling on the ground, trembling and looking at him with wide, fearful eyes. “Get out.” He turned to Haggar as well. “You as well.”

Ven’tar rose and looked at Lotor as if in askance, and that was almost enough to have Zarkon striding over to it and breaking its neck. Haggar, at the very least, left without question and promptly.

For his part, Lotor nodded jerkily and made rushing motions. He didn’t know why his father wanted the two of them alone—Zarkon never minded beating the life out of Lotor in front of witnesses—but the uneasiness began to bloom in his chest and spread down to his stomach. He was getting slightly nauseous from all the combined dread and stress he was feeling. Lotor was still sweating, too, and wanted to wipe at his brows surreptitiously, but he knew the act could be mistaken as him reaching to touch his cheeks—and that was a sign of weakness he didn’t want to show his father. There was a difference between deference and weakness, and it was a fragile line Lotor had to balance on right then.

Keeping his head lowered facing toward the ground, Lotor peered up from beneath his lashes to watch as the witch and Ven’tar departed the throne room. The massive double doors slid shut with a loud, foreboding bang. Lotor could barely repress the flinch as the sound echoed through the now mostly empty room. Swallowing heavily, Lotor slowly straightened up and turned toward his father, but made sure to keep his eyes level and staring straight ahead. Due to his height, Lotor could only stare right at the luminous lines of Quintessence in his father’s armor, glowing ominously the same shade as the Galra’s eyes. Whatever defiance and backbone he possessed before was completely gone now.

It had never occurred to Lotor that Zarkon would simply order the execution of a whole planet just to teach him a lesson—but it shouldn’t have been surprising to him. He mentally cursed himself for his stupidity. _I should’ve—should’ve… I don’t know. Phrased it differently?_

Emperor Zarkon began to prowl slowly in a circle around Lotor. “You’re disgusting.”

The prince pressed his lips together in a firm line as his eyes hardened into ice.

“Disappointing.”

He sucked in a part of his lower lip to keep it from trembling.

“Worthless.”

Lotor bit down to keep himself from screaming.

Zarkon completed his circuit around Lotor, taking in every angle of his child with cold indifference, and ended up standing behind him. Lifting the corner of his mouth in a sneer, Zarkon snapped a foot out and kicked Lotor in the back of his knees, sending him tumbling down ungracefully into a kneeling position.

Lotor’s flight suit was padded on the inside and comfortable. The force of the blow would’ve been jarring, but it was mostly absorbed and negligible instead. The sharp kick almost had Lotor biting a hole into his lip, but he managed to stop himself in time. Instead, Lotor had switched to gritting his back molars together and was currently grinding down as he tried to keep himself in check. _Don’t lash back. Don’t reply. You know he hates that._ It was truly a test of patience and willpower to keep himself as still as he could to serve as his father’s plaything.

A sharp gasp escaped from Lotor’s previously tightly pressed lips when he felt a huge hand rake fingers through his hair. A tremble shook his body, something he couldn’t prevent. He clenched his teeth together in time to stifle a scream as his father wrenched his head back as much as his body would let him while still kneeling. Lotor was literally being bent over backward, somewhat an ironic position as he felt he did that metaphorically for his father’s approval.

“Dirty. That’s what you are. _Dir-ty._ ”

Lotor couldn’t help but glare up at his father, blue eyes flashing with rage, but did attempt to smoothen out his expression afterward—a useless thing to do as his father saw the brief flicker of defiance.

Surprisingly, Zarkon’s lips pulled back in a grim smile. He abruptly released his grip on the silky strands and then circled to Lotor’s front. The prince took that chance to right his head and winced at the sharp pain in his neck.

“You’re a lost cause. Every attempt I make at teaching you good behavior ends in failure.” Zarkon stopped right in front of Lotor, close enough that the boy would have to crane his head back again just to look up at him. “But I’m going to give you one last chance.”

Lotor stiffened, bringing his gaze from the ground to try and look as far upwards at his father as comfort allowed. “Truly?” Throat tight from the tears, his voice came out a little scratchy and weak. He cleared his throat and forced out, “Th-thank you, Father.” A part of him hated himself for saying that. Another part of him raged that he had to think his father for something like this. The more realistic part of him was suspicious, however. “Is there… something I must do to earn this chance?”

“Of course.” Zarkon held up his hand and held up two fingers. “Two things. Firstly, you will _never_ dare to bite me.”

The confusion Lotor felt was evident on his face, but he didn’t question it, still waiting for the second condition.

The Emperor reached a hand out and laid it on top of Lotor’s head. Anyone else besides the two of them would have mistaken that move as a gentle, paternal gesture.

Suspicion was rising in Lotor as well as revulsion. There was a sense or feeling in the back of his head that something terrible was about to happen, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “F-father?” Searching the deep pools of malevolent, bright eyes, Lotor couldn't pick anything up.

Not replying, Zarkon tightened his grip on his son’s head and tilted his head back. “Remember. I will erase this planet if you bite me.”

“Wh-what?”

Zarkon kept his one hand on Lotor’s head while he used his other to reach toward his armor. Over the many millennia of his existence, constantly putting on and removing his armor had rankled his nerves enough to redesign it many times until it was a simple task to remove whatever section he wanted. With quick efficiency, he removed the chest piece, codpiece, and girdle, and tossed them aside.

Lotor, for his part, kept quiet but grew paler and paler by the second, eyes continuing to widen all the while. His head was pressed against his father’s hand as he tried to back away. An expression of mild horror was fixed on his face as his lips remained half opened. _Surely not…?_ He trembled as he thought, _So that’s what he meant by not biting him_ —”W-wait! ….F-father?” Lotor called him by his paternal title in an attempt to remind Zarkon that he was _his father._ Shakily, Lotor kept trying to move his head away, but the grip on his head was tight and unrelenting. “Wait… No, please!”

The look of horror and fear grew on Lotor’s face as he watched his father shed each piece and section of armor easily, far too quickly. The eerie silence as Zarkon worked made everything far worse. “Father!!” Lotor yelled desperately. His voice was high and panicked. “Surely—not—”

After a long lapse, Zarkon said, “I’ve been thinking. For a long time now, I have never figured out a way to punish you truly. Something about you always remains defiant at the end no matter how hard or often I whip you.” A sick smirk curves the emperor’s lips. “How will you fare against this?”

“Y-you’re preposterous! There are l-limits—You don’t just— _Father_!”

“Remember,” Zarkon said rather idly, “the fate of an entire planet rests on _you._ ” With a flick, Zarkon managed to do away with the armor pieces covering his front and reached for the zipper tucked under a sliver of metal near his collarbones and began to drag it downwards.

Lotor shut his mouth with a click. He gulped loudly as his eyes remained glued on his father’s hand. His _father’s.._. He wanted to resist, to fight and run, but Zarkon had pinned the fate of the planet on him. Lotor felt lost. How did one prepare for this kind of situation…? Of course, Lotor had been very nearly raped distressingly often, but...

Nothing compared to Emperor Zarkon. No one ever did.

With extreme apprehension and terror, Lotor watched as that zipper descended lower and lower, finally cresting over the bump that represented his father’s… his father’s… Lotor clenched his eyes shut and very nearly whimpered.

“This is the cost of defiance.”

With his eyes shut, Lotor couldn’t see what his father was doing. But the sudden quiet let him know that his father had finished unzipping—and he—

Lotor heard the sound of the cloth being rustled lightly and—He couldn’t keep his eyes shut any longer. He had to see. His eyes flew open, and he stared straight ahead in abject horror as at the sight of his father gripping his cock loosely in one hand. There were terrifying ridges that ran along the bottom of Zarkon's cock, starting almost halfway down his shaft and continued to the base. Lotor shuddered as he thought about those raised edges piercing him, catching on his teeth. Some far away part of Lotor tried to remember if he’d ever seen Zarkon’s penis—another part of him lashed back at his absurd pondering and replied, _No, of course not, you idiot. Why would you?_

Lotor’s face had slackened into a look of horror and shock. He had trouble knowing where to look. His wide eyes darted about and landed on random places: Zarkon’s vambrace that hovered nearby, protecting the arm holding his head in place—Zarkon’s boots, red metal gleaming in the light—moss; it was Ven’tar’s idea to change the composition of the moss in the throne room—No matter how Lotor tried, though, his gaze ended back at his father’s cock, which was slowly being stroked into a hardness. His fingers would constantly catch on the ridges as his hand worked up and down.

Disbelief had numbed Lotor into muteness. He kept staring with wide blue eyes at that large hand as it rhythmically stroked up and down a large shaft. Lotor couldn't stop thinking, staring at the ridges. _Ridges!_

Somehow, Lotor managed to pull himself together enough to dart a look up at his father’s face, expression already morphing into a pleading one. His head was turning to and fro, and he realized he was shaking his head. “No... No.”

Chuckling darkly, Zarkon slowed his already unhurried stroking until he stopped at just holding his dick. “Open your mouth.”

“No!”

“ _Lotor_.”

Cringing away as far as he could, pressing hard against the hand locking his head in place, Lotor shook his head and yelled, “No!”

“I will not repeat myself!” the Emperor thundered. “Open—your—mouth.”

Choking back a sob, Lotor’s breath came in hitched fits. “N—” He never got to finish his protest as his father used that moment to lean his pelvis forward, bringing the head of his cock against Lotor’s lips. “—ngh!”

“Keep it open.”

The hand that kept Lotor’s head in place finally moved to push his unwilling head forward. Tears immediately sprung to his eyes his mouth was filled with—with a taste he didn’t want to think about, coming from a source he definitely didn’t want to acknowledge. The size of—Lotor’s mouth was forced opened widely as more and more length slipped in. It didn’t take long to fill his mouth entirely, and Lotor’s head trembled from the strain of both trying to turn his head away—impossible, with how harshly and tightly his head was secured—and trying to push the invading cock out with his tongue—and—

An anguished sob broke out of Lotor, though severely muffled by the mouthful of dick. His throat seized and convulsed as he swallowed irregularly, unintentionally tasting more and more of—Gods, he had to think about it.

Lotor’s mouth was being stuffed with his father’s cock. What he was tasting was his father’s _cum_.

Tears leaked down his face as he heard a rich, deep laugh echo out into the room.

“That’s right. Open wide.” Zarkon tilted Lotor’s head back further, making it easier for him to slide his shaft deeper in. His dickhead alone was filling out Lotor’s mouth, and it took a minor push to have his cock pushing against the back of Lotor’s throat, ridges be-damned. Due to his height compared to Lotor’s, Zarkon had to thrust downwards while tilting his son’s head back, but it was perfect all the same—better even, as the angle forced Lotor to look up at him constantly. It looked like Lotor was presenting himself to him.

The prince screamed, and his mouth spasmed trying to simultaneously bite down yet not, and also trying to push out the invading appendage. He started to choke and cough, gagging at the taste and the thought of it sliding down further. He shook his head, both trying to say ‘no’ and to attempt to dislodge his father’s cock from his mouth. He wanted so badly to bite down and escape, but the faces of Ven’tar and her kin flashed through his mind. Lotor had to settle for sniffling pathetically and squeezing his glossy eyes shut. Breathing irregularly through his nose, Lotor’s vision began to swim as his air supply was drastically reduced.

Now that his cock was securely in Lotor’s mouth, Zarkon let the hand holding it drop away and brought it to press a thumb against his son’s neck. A groan fell from his lips as Lotor’s constant micro-resistance translated into a continual rub against his shaft. The gagging noises from Lotor weren’t flattering, but yet at the same time, very enticing. Zarkon pushed his cock further into Lotor’s mouth while simultaneously forcing his son’s head forward and upward from behind. He traced Lotor’s neck with his thumb, feeling the flesh bulge and expand to take his cock further, deeper.

Lotor had been unsure where to look, what to do with his hands or body, or even what to think. That had been resolved pretty quickly once his father started trying to jam his dick down his throat, however. Lotor brought his hands up to grapple uselessly at Zarkon’s vambraces, fingers catching the gaps between the armor. He tried to get a good grip to pull those hands away and free his head. Tears kept springing to his eyes and streaming down the side of his cheeks as his gag reflex went into overdrive. His chest was heaving as he kept trying to draw in air from the only source he had left and the urge to puke was overpowering.

Ruthlessly, his father kept shoving his cock further into Lotor’s throat. He was outright screaming then, but it could barely be heard. Lotor’s mouth felt strained from remaining wrenched open to its absolute limits, and there was the constant underlying urge to just bite down and get it over with. _Don’t,_ a fragment of Lotor’s mind said. _Billions of lives._

Soon, Zarkon’s cock slid deep enough to expand his throat to the point where Lotor couldn’t intake air from his nose either. He squeezed his eyes shut as he choked and coughed. He kept thrashing his head about in an attempt to shake off his father or in the vain hopes of somehow dislodging that disgusting cock from his mouth—but there was no freedom for him. Lotor began to take in small fitful breaths but no oxygen was making it into his lungs.

Lotor also began heaving, unable to keep from vomiting anymore. He was very glad he hadn’t eaten breakfast as, ironically, he didn’t want to risk actually regurgitating from the nausea of dealing with his father. Thankfully, Zarkon relented and pulled his cock out in one quick motion. Dropping to his hands, Lotor’s head ended in between his father’s legs as his body convulsed. There were trace amounts of bile, the taste definitely bitter against the back of his throat, mixed into the saliva that dribbled from his mouth. He reached a hand up to wipe at it, coughing all the while. He took heaving, desperate breaths, filling his lungs with precious air.

Lotor couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything besides the horrible feeling of having something slide down his throat, choking him, cutting off all his air. He couldn’t get past the taste, the scent of sex. He couldn’t accept that it was _his father_ doing this to him.

The act of wiping the spit away and then stopping to stare at it, transfixed, was what brought him back full force to reality. His lips trembled as he continued to stare at his hands with eyes wide open, horrified. Lotor didn’t have much time to dwell as he was lifted back into the upright position he was in before, pulled entirely by his hair. “Ahhgh!” he screamed and immediately reached his hands behind his head to grasp at those vile hands. “NO!” he yelled. “Please! PLEASE!” He kept begging as his head was tilted back. Lotor could only stare straight up into his father’s Quintessence-corrupted eyes. Desperately, almost brokenly, “No…”

Zarkon replied by bringing his cock to Lotor’s mouth again. “Keep going if you want your pathetic colony to be spared.” He didn’t wait for compliance, however; instead, he pushed in roughly and heedless of Lotor’s physical reaction. Zarkon rocked his hips forward, making sure to keep his son’s head in place, before pulling out, and then sliding in again.

It was easier this time, Lotor distantly noted, to take his father’s cock deep into his throat. He learned when was a good time to quickly inhale and take in tiny bits of air before it was—it was too late. The way the ridges _and scales_ would catch on his teeth as his father pulled his cock out should've been a hindrance, but Zarkon seemed to pay it no mind as he ruthlessly pushed his cock in. His head still trembled from the amount of exertion it took to keep himself from snapping his jaws shut around the dick raping his mouth, but the coughs and gags were slowly starting to subside to the occasional one. Yet it was still miserable for him, as the constant pressure inside of his throat constantly kept him feeling like he was going to gag and choke and vomit. All three things were highly likely in equal measure.

At some point, Lotor had given up trying to pull either his head away or his father’s hands off of him, and instead, Lotor’s hands were gripping the wrists of his father’s arms, using them as a means of grounding himself. His nails had extended into claws, and he was digging them in deep, but his father’s suit prevented him from even reaching the skin.

He still couldn’t stop from screaming, garbled and distorted, every time his father pulled away only to thrust hard into his mouth. Each and every thrust pushed in further and further down his throat. Heady from all the overwhelming sensations and lack of air, Lotor could only briefly wonder how much farther inside of him Zarkon’s cock could get before it had to _stop_ . Eventually, he ended up taking more and more of the shaft until his nose ended up buried into his father’s body every time the Galra thrust down his throat. Every desperate breath he tried to fit between thrusts were soon tinged with the musky scent of Zarkon. Lotor didn’t have enough mental acumen then to name the scents he was picking up, but he only knew that it was distinctly _Zarkon_ —sharp, invasive. It reminded him of battle.

Lotor’s mouth was widened as far as it could go not because of concentrated effort on his end, but because his father’s cock was large and closing his mouth any further was impossible. There was an alarming amount of teeth and fangs involved, but it didn’t seem to bother his father any. No, Lotor was beginning to think Zarkon enjoyed that as well, just the mildest scrape of his teeth along that thick shaft from base to tip. The ridges and scales on his father's cock kept catching on his teeth every time his father drew his cock out. Thrusting back in was marginally easier than withdrawing, but Lotor could barely tell the difference. His mouth and mind was slowly becoming consumed by the cock ravaging his mouth.

Breathing shallowly, trying desperately to intake what little oxygen he could, Lotor’s mind seemed to have shut down, and the only thing he could do was cling on and stare at the emperor with huge, bloodshot eyes still filled with terror and shock. Everything had been reduced down to the simplest, most minute details, like how the corners of his mouth were starting to hurt from the strain of having his mouth wrenched so wide open. The constant friction from the thrusts wasn’t helping matters much. His father had, at several points, pushed his head down the length of his cock instead of thrusting his pelvis forward, and forcibly pressed Lotor’s face against his body.

Blue eyes starting to glaze over from the brutality of the assault, Lotor’s mind was sliding further and further away from the ordeal. He found himself idly thinking about what the researchers in the labs were doing now. He had instructed them to wait for him, earlier in the day, as he had been expecting the meeting to be brief… They better not have been lounging around, doing nothing, without him there to direct them!

Zarkon noticed immediately. Pushing Lotor’s face until he swallowed the entirety of his cock straight to the base, the emperor brought a hand over and pinched his son’s nose shut, effectively cutting off any chance breathing altogether. “Lotor,” he crooned.

Lotor jumped and a whimper escaped the prince immediately. He began to shake and tossed his head from side to side as much as he could—which was not much at all. Lotor tried to take heaving, gasping breaths, but there was nowhere for him to intake any air. The only thing he accomplished was forcing his throat to convulse, which did little but massage his father’s cock. He whined louder, the only way he could think of to plead without words. His entire body trembled as he tried to fight for breath. His vision began to haze as time continued to tick on.

 _Bite bite bite,_ an inner, more carnal portion of him demanded.

 _Don’t_.

It sounded distinctly like Ven’tar, though Lotor knew her people did not possess telepathy, and neither did he.

Lotor’s eyes slowly rolled upwards into the back of his head, glazing over, and his body started to feel light. He felt somewhat… faint. His body began to grow lax, his grip on his father’s vambraces loosening, and his hands started to fall away.

Zarkon dropped his hand away from Lotor’s nose and slid his cock out just enough to allow Lotor to breathe, though he was still lodged in that tight, convulsing throat. He watched with relish as his son heaved for breath, inhaling as much as he could through his nose while his mouth continued to be blocked by a thick cock.

“Pay attention, Lotor,” said Zarkon. “I want you to use your tongue. I want you to _suck._ ” The emperor slid his splayed fingers into Lotor’s hair and gripped his tiny skull, then eased himself out of Lotor’s throat fully, ending with a wet _pop._ Zarkon held Lotor upright to watch him struggle for his life. He even tightened his grip and tilted Lotor’s head even further back, straining that thin, fragile neck.

Tears and spit dripped from Lotor in equal measure as he attempted to gather himself together. The burning in his scalp was easier to ignore as he had quickly become accustomed to be manhandled by his hair. Shivering and wracked with both agony and disgust, Lotor was having a lot of trouble bringing himself to willingly subject himself to further torment. ‘Do it for them’ was starting to sound weaker and less compelling.

Not allowed a moment longer to convince himself this was the better option, Lotor was pushed forward and placed back into the uncomfortable position he was earlier. He kept his teeth clamped together as he eyed his father’s cock, but after a moment of deliberation, his expression turned defeated as he willingly opened his mouth.

“Much better. That’s the behavior I’m expecting.” Zarkon even took a moment to stroke his son’s head as if in reward. In reality, he did it just to repulse Lotor even more. He didn’t take the time out to see if it worked, far too impatient to wait and wanting to continue fucking Lotor’s mouth instead. He pushed the tip of his cock past slightly reticent lips, giving Lotor time to willingly engage on his own. “Go on.” Zarkon started massage the tips of his fingers and claws into Lotor’s head, entirely for further torment.

“ _Nghhh…_ ” Lotor protested around the tip lodged in his mouth. He really didn’t want… He didn’t— _Ngh_.

Warningly, Zarkon growled, “Lotor.” He started to dig his claws in harder.

Willing himself to action, Lotor closed his lips around the thinner tip of Zarkon’s cock and started to suck lightly. His throat felt scratchy and abused—like as if the scales and ridges had scraped away the inner lining of his throat, leaving him raw—and swallowing when there wasn’t a cock in the way felt oddly… strange. The taste of his father filled his mouth and mind as it slid down his throat. Bitter and salty. Lotor wanted to retch, doubly so after hearing his father groan heavily. Zarkon started to roll his hips, not yet trying to ram his dick down Lotor’s throat, but close to it. Lotor pressed his tongue against the underside of his father's dick, feeling the odd rise and fall of the ridges. The flesh itself was smooth, most likely because of his spit, and dragging his tongue against the organ in his mouth was a simple feat for Lotor. He still shuddered and gasped fitfully as he tried to appease his rapist.

Horrifically encouraged by the noises his father made, Lotor slid in a little more of his flesh and sucked harder—hard enough to hollow out his cheeks. The following swallow was accompanied by a flash of shudders wracking Lotor’s body.

“Good boy… Trying so hard for me.” Zarkon rolled his hips again, demanding that Lotor swallow more of his cock. Hesitantly, a tongue was pressed against the underside of his cock as the response. “Beautiful.”

Lotor jerked, turning his eyes up to stare at his father in shock, and subconsciously pulled away, nearly popping the cock out of his mouth, but he was then roughly shoved back into place. He made an obscene moan of protest unwillingly. Clenching his tired, burning eyes shut, Lotor began to bob his head back and forth as much as he could without having the shaft end up inside of his throat again. Zarkon had other plans, however, and soon began to help Lotor by letting him pull his head back on his own, but then pushing him forward, forcing Lotor to swallow more and more. The groans coming from his father was both repulsive… and slightly satisfying. It was a thought Lotor chose not to linger too much on.

Pushing past his rising, but ever present, nausea, Lotor swirled his tongue as much as he was able to in such tight confines and sucked as much as he was able to without forcing himself to vomit. Zarkon’s cock widened out the closer he got to the base, and Lotor felt his mouth straining again as he attempted to wrap his lips around the thick girth. He let out a whine and moaned as his father took over entirely, pulling his head back and slamming his face all the way forward.

Zarkon thrust forward in rhythm with his hand as he used Lotor’s mouth, and there was a satisfying smack every time Lotor ended up smashing his face against his crotch.

For his part, Lotor kept obediently sucking and sliding his tongue wherever he pleased. He kept his eyes clenched shut. He figured if his father liked this, and if he finished faster… Then Lotor would be free of this torment all the sooner. Everything was becoming easier for him to ignore as his vision began to haze out. There was a slight ringing in his ears that he had just noticed, but Lotor chose to ignore that as well. He ignored everything besides how his tongue moved, and how well his mouth sucked. He tried not to think about how his gag reflex had practically disappeared, happier to acknowledge, instead, how much easier it was to suck now that he wasn’t hindered as much.

The sound of Zarkon’s moans and groans and appreciation of Lotor’s… work… were constantly present, and it was as if he somehow fine-tuned his hearing as he began to notice the sloppy, sloppy sound of him sucking and sliding along his father’s shaft. It was wet and grotesque-sounding to his ears. He ignored that too. What he couldn’t ignore was how he whined every time his father drove in, however, and the way his own voice sounded—warped and disgusting—grating on his ears. The wet slap of his father’s cock constantly striking the back of his throat and continuing to push further inwards sounded so very twisted and perverted to his ears. He just wanted it all to stop.

Lotor tilted his head farther back to look at his father, but it was rather useless. The Galra had his head thrown back as he used Lotor’s mouth as a fucktoy.

 _Please cum,_ he thought distantly, vision starting to swim. _I want you to cum._

Moaning again, Zarkon began to tilt his head down to gaze at the destruction he was wreaking.

Lotor was a mess. He had his bloodshot eyes trained on him, but they were slowly rolling up to the back of his head, and he looked entirely unfocused as his head was being forced through the motions of sucking Zarkon off. There were rivulets of spit dripping down his chin as well, adding to the look of complete debauchery. Zarkon felt his cock pulse inside of Lotor’s mouth as he kept gazing down at his handiwork, and his breathing picked up even further until he was panting purely from excitement.

Zarkon picked up his pace, yanking Lotor’s head all the way back and then slamming him all the way down his shaft. The wet gurgle of his cock constantly plunging down Lotor’s throat and the choked, agonized cries that his son emitted—Zarkon slammed Lotor’s head all the way down until his nose was buried against skin. His vision turned white as he finally came, lodged deep inside of his son. His hands spasmed as his body convulsed with the force of his orgasm. Waves and waves of cum poured inside of Lotor, who was whimpering pathetically and still crying, though there were few tears.

As he felt his climax fading, Zarkon roughly yanked Lotor off in time to spill the last of his cum onto his face, even managing to splash some cum near Lotor’s eye, completing the look of pure debauchery. His son looked filthy and used, dirtier and more depraved than the most wanton of whores. Of course, the Emperor wasn’t done with his plaything, as he still needed to use it for one more thing. Still maintaining his grip on Lotor’s skull, Zarkon began to wipe his cock against whatever swatches of clean skin on Lotor’s face, neck, and even hair, that he could reach, using it as a means to clean his cock. Zarkon stopped when he was mostly satisfied that his dick wouldn’t leave lingering stains on his flight suit. He dropped his hold on Lotor, who fell to his haunches and slumped forward, unmoving. Taking a moment to sear in the memory of an utterly defeated Lotor into his mind, satisfied that _this_ was what he wanted to see, Zarkon sneered down at his properly disciplined son then began to redress. Once done, he strode from the throne room with a snap of his cape, leaving behind the still immobile figure of the prince.

**Author's Note:**

> i gotta admit at some point i forgot to mention that zarkon's dick has scales even tho the tags says he does.
> 
> Edit: Beta read by the awesome and lovely bittersweetangstlord + SpicyRedPaladin ♥
> 
> Now with minor edits to account for scales and ridges on a certain penis!


End file.
